The Hayloft - Sex Stories

The Hayloft

In the dance hall, the lights are dim amber as you are walking back to your seat after a few fast dances. This scene is so familiar to me now, yet it never gets old. I've got it bad for you, yet you don't have a clue. As I sit at the rail, I order up a Courvoisier cognac to give me strength, and watch your every move intensely. Your eyes are so deep and sparkling with the joy of the dance. How I wish they sparkled for me! Your hair is so soft, yet hangs so straight, like long, pin-straight strands of auburn gold silk. Not a wave to be seen, till you move and it flies with the wind, or with the joy in your heart, as you dance so gracefully. I long so to feel that silk brushing ever so lightly against my hand, my face, my body, my everything. Your lips are so fine and delicate, with a light flesh-pink lipstick, giving your face the final touch of being unmistakably, so delicately feminine. Yet it is the blush of your skin, with its peerless perfection, that takes my breath away and makes me long to hold your face to my chest every time you seem to notice me looking at you. Your body is no less perfect than your face; your large, yet deliciously delicate breasts, standing proud, clearly pushing into the fabric of your blouse. Your hips are so shapely, your legs toned from sports, perhaps, or frequent visits to the gym. When the first set finishes, you approach the rail with an order for you and the other girls with you at your table. Immediately, I start to feel my heart beat ...

... faster. I take in your lips, so made for mine: moist, wet and softly tinted. Your fine, blonde-auburn hair cascades down the sides of your face, waves now becoming apparent. As you sit to make and wait for your order, your legs cross in such a naturally erotic pose. You sit smiling, shifting in your seat, and I am transfixed. When the barkeep arrives and you order, your voice makes me dizzy. It is so light, he has to lean in to be sure he got the order right. He winks, and says, “Yes Ma'am, coming right up!” clearly and politely acknowledging your gender and the attention-grabbing presence you exude, without seeming to try. I have never felt like this... till you. So excited am I, by just your appearance, and your classy, yet subtly erotic gestures; the finger brought to your lips, as if pursed to kiss, sends chills up my spine. The way you tilt your head in speaking, reveals a porcelain smooth and vulnerable neck. You are teasing my imagination to hunger. I swear it. With my heart racing, a slow dance just beginning, I rush to your side. Looking you straight in the eyes, so deeply I almost fall in, and risking it all without even thinking, I ask in my deep, bass voice, “Would you care to dance with a country gentleman?” For so long I have wanted to do this. For so long your mere presence has overwhelmed me at these dances. This time I barely know what I am saying, what my body is doing. You look back into my eyes, reaching out your hand, as you quickly glance back at the other ...